


I Thought You Were Smart

by orange_fox



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Budding Love, Crime Fighting, Crime Scenes, Detectives, Explicit Language, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Hate Crimes, M/M, Other, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Transgender, but i promise there will be more than enough gay to make up for it, im asexual i cant write that stuff mate, lots of gay but no explicit sexual content, only minor original characters, robots can be trans i make the rules
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-07 11:55:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15218627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orange_fox/pseuds/orange_fox
Summary: Connor and Hank quit the force and become private detectives, fighting crime and enforcing the law and all that shit. More like enforcing moral laws than official ones but they try their best.Oh, and Cyberlife seriously fucked up.The two lads learn a lot about eachother, but what do they learn? and when do they learn it?? and what does it mean??? ooooo suspense





	1. Home is where the dog is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kept thinking of little scenarios for these boys and so i had to write it all down & make it something linear. i haven't written anything in a long while so please be gentle! :^)  
> let me know if you have any comments or feedback, and more chapters have already been written so theres definitely more to come!

There wasn't much information availiable to the public regarding any faults that could occur during the manufactoring of androids. According to the media's, and general society's, views, Cyberlife was the vision of perfection. A company that created advanced, intelligent technology, made to assist humans with any task imaginable, having faults? Malfunctions? Mistakes? I don't think so. 

"Alright then, what's your model code?"  
A routine self awareness check, without this segment of AI, androids would stick out like a sore thumb from humans. 

"I am a model PL300"

The employee ticked a box on his tablet and swiped across, sending the android to the next stage of testing. 

"Model code?" The employee asked in monotone as the next android was transported along the conveyer belt, stopping in place in front of him.

"I am a model RK800. My name is Connor."

The employee's finger routinely drifted to the check box before he froze, looking up for the first time all day. 

"Fuck."

 

"Hank!" 

Connor absent-mindedly pet Sumo on the head whilst waiting for the Lieutenant's responspe.

"Haaank!"

Connor had never understood the concept of laziness before he became deviant, but lying on the sofa with the warmth of a dog under his hand, and the weight of his laptop on his legs, he felt particularly comfortable. And surely he couldn't leave Sumo all alone just to go and find the dog's owner? Of course not.

"HAAANK!"

"WHAAAT?!" 

Hank finally responded, imitating the android's whining voice as he walked through the living room door. 

"Jericho got in touch, one of their members has reported another human capturing and assaulting an android."

Hank sighed. Although laws against purposefully damaging androids had been put in place soon after their equal rights movement, some humans still just didn't get it.  
Hank got it. If it had been his fight he would have fought with them, but he felt like it was best for everyone if he supported with his words and actions behind the scenes rather than in front of the cameras. Human voices had been heard for long enough, and it was about time the androids had their turn.

"How wonderful. Another wild wednesday night then." said Hank, sarcasm dripping from his mouth.

Connor smiled and moved his laptop from his legs, getting up from the sofa to go and get changed for the case.  
Technically, he wasn't a detective anymore. And technically Hank wasn't a Lieutenant anymore. But in the year following the revolution, those facts hadn't stop them from behaving as such.  
Despite equal rights for androids being put in place, Hank had soon gotten fed up with the obvious prejudice of the Detroit Police Department against Connor, and Connor, since becoming deviant, wanted to experience something other than the DPD.  
So after Hank threw his badge directly at Captain Fowler's head and stormed out of the department, dragging Connor with him by the hand, they had re-established connections at Jericho and begun working with them, taking the android cases that the DPD were too causious to take themselves.  
It worked for the two men, it suited Hank's natural aversion to authority (if you're your own boss then the only person you can be averse to is yourself) and it suited Connor's new found freedom from his own programming.

Hank and Connor, private investigators. Although when Connor had suggested the title, Hank had laughed and said he'd "investigate no such things".

Connor returned from his bedroom, having changed out of his pyjama shorts and sweatshirt and into a casual-looking suit. He'd ditched the tie and his android uniform in favour of his white button-up shirt and plain black suit jacket. Although he did still like to wear a tie when the situation called for it. 

"It's across town but it shouldn't take too long to get to, and the incident has only just been reported, Jericho found the pair this afternoon." Connor told Hank, his LED switching to yellow as he recieved the location of the case, before fading into it's usual blue. 

"Ok, we'll get the bus then." said Hank, walking towards the door, "Sumo! Be a good boy!" 

Sumo barked and wagged his tail, confirming he would indeed be a good boy.

Connor waved to the dog before closing and locking the door behind himself and Hank, who then made their way to the nearest bus stop.

Buses were no longer segregated, meaning that Connor and Hank could sit beside eachother and discuss the case on their way to the location. 

"The contact at Jericho said that the human involved has kidnapped the android and is using it as androids were originally built to be used, forced housework, daily tasks etc. The man has reset the android and so it is unable to leave due to it's programming."  
Connor frowned, looking puzzled.  
"Sounds weirdly familiar..." he said, gazing out the window as his hair drifted in the breeze from the buses ventilation. 

"Hmm? To what?" asked Hank, looking over to Connor curiously.

Connor looked back at Hank "My every day life." he said, a smirk lifting the corners of his lips.

Hank glared back at the android.  
"Oi, I never reset you, It ain't my fault that you're a freak who _likes_ making me breakfast."

Connor chuckled and went back to watching the scenery out the bus window. He did like making Hank breakfast. Besides, if he didn't make it then Hank certainly wouldn't. Despite getting sober after quitting the DPD and having Connor move in, the habit of acting as though he was unable to function in the morning hadn't quite stopped yet, but neither of them was complaining.


	2. Strategy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Connor carry out a perfect, seem-less, routine case. OR DO THEY??   
> guess you're gonna have to read to find out :^) (hint: they don't)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next day, next chapter! i'm meant to be arting but i'm having too much fun writing this, i hope you have just as much fun reading it!  
> let me know if you have any feedback or comments, thanks for reading!

The bus soon arrived on the street where the incident had taken place, and after finding the correct house, Hank knocked on the door, getting his forged police badge ready to show to the occupant. Sometimes he did wish he hadn't thrown his real one at Fowler, but it had been worth it for the satisfaction.

A bedraggled, but still somehow uptight-looking, man answered the door. Connor scanned him immediately. His name was Paul Green, he was fourty-three years old and originally from California. No criminal convictions, but had been detained by police once for suspected shop lifting, released after not enough evidence could be gathered confirming his involvment. An avid fan of wrestling. Interesting.

"Hank Anderson, Detroit police" Hank said, quickly flashing his badge at the man before stuffing it back into his pocket, "And this is the DPD's android, Connor. We're investigating a situation in the surrounding neibourhood and wondered if we could speak to you?"

The man shifted in place, his eyes widening slightly, clearly uncomfortable at the thought. 

"Yeah... sure. Come in." the man said, moving to the side of the hallway to allow Hank and Connor into his home. 

"Thanks. What's your name, sir?" Hank asked 

"Paul, um, Paul Green." 

"Well Mr. Green," said Hank, "we've recieved a few noise complaints from some of your neighbours. We're currently checking each house on the street, just as a precaution"

It was always a noise complaint, thought Connor. It was the most believeable and vague lie that Hank could come up with.   
Usually in the android kidnapping or forced work cases they were involved in, the pair would simply enter the address, lie to the occupant and Connor would wake the android whilst Hank distracted the human, allowing the android to escape when it suited them. However, in cases where the human was suspected to be violent towards the android, they had to go about their mission slightly differently.

"Oh don't mind that" Hank said to Mr. Green, gesturing to Connor, "just some fuckin' android the department ordered that never went deviant. And thank fuck for that, I hate those things, since when does plastic need equal rights anyway?"

Hank hated doing this and Connor knew it. The first time they'd had to deal with a similar case, Hank had felt bad about it for an entire week afterwards, his guilt forcing him to reassure Connor in each interaction that those were not his true views on androids. Hank even bought him the new jacket he wore on their cases, chucking it in the android's general direction as he walked into their home on the friday of that week.

But this method worked every time.

With Connor playing robot in the doorway and Hank's words lingering in the air, Paul visibley relaxed, letting out a breath he'd been holding since the two stepped into his house. 

"I agree, how dare they claim to be our equals. We created them for god's sake!" He said, the uneasiness having now left his snobbish voice.

"Ain't that the truth." Hank falsely agreed "I could probably get you one if you wanted? A reset, we've got a bunch of 'em down the station."

"No that's alright officer, I've got one already, reset her myself, infact."

"Impressive. Look, I'm not meant to be encouraging this shit, equality laws and whatever, but could I take a look at it? Might be useful to learn about resetting the fuckers myself, incase this thing wakes up." said Hank, again gesturing at Connor, who was still stood in the doorway, looking as blank as he could.

"Why, of course!" said Paul, excitedly, clearly revelling in someone finally taking an interest in his illegal technological activities.   
"I'll go and get her for you."

Paul went through into the kitchen to fetch the android, giving Hank just enough time to turn to his partner, throwing him an apologetic expression.   
Connor simply winked in response, immediately going back to his previous neutral expression.

Paul came back into the room, an android in tow that looked even more bedraggled than the man himself. Her uniform was spotted with faint blue stains which Connor detected as thirium. Thirium that had been diluted with a mixture of washing powder and water. Being forced to wash your own blood out of your uniform? That's... almost barbaric, Connor thought, keeping a straight face despite his disgust.   
On top of being decorated with her own blood, the scratches and small gashes on her body, and the dent in her temple, she was also an AX400 model. The same model as one of the androids that Connor had known during the revolution. Her name was Kara, and she still worked at Jericho to this day, often being to one to send Connor cases that the DPD had denied. 

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Paul almost snarled, a smile crawling its way round his mouth. 

Hank didn't answer the man's question, clearly himself repulsed by his attitude.  
"Pretty advanced model, kinda impressive you could reset it yourself..." said Hank, walking around the android as if admiring the creep's handywork.

Whilst pretending to inspect the AX400, Hank quickly got behind the man, getting him into a headlock and holding his gun to the side of his head.   
"Let us take her, and we'll let you go unharmed. And we won't tell the _real_ police what you've done." Hank threatened as Connor walked towards the other android and took her hand in his, steering her towards the door.

Paul struggled in Hank's grip, choking slightly as Hank tightened his arm around his neck. 

"F-fine!" He managed to force out through gritted teeth. 

Hank released him from his grasp and kept his gun trained on Paul's head as he backed towards the door, keeping himself in front of Connor and the AX400.  
"Good choice. We'll be off then, hope I don't see you again you fuckin' arsehole."

With that, the three of them backed out of the house, Hank slamming the door with Paul's snarling face still visible from the living room as he did. 

 

A perfect, routine case, Hank thought to himself as they walked down the street towards the nearest taxi rank.   
He didn't particularly like getting cabs, but they couldn't take the damaged AX400 on public transport without drawing unwanted attention.

Connor was now holding the other android's arm, so as to be able to guide her to their destination more effectively.   
"Hank" he said, snapping his partner out of his post-case daydream.

"Yup?"

"Good job, I believe that is one of the smoothest cases we have undertaken in the recent months." said Connor, a smile on his face. 

"Aw shucks, kid." Hank replied, "You do flatter me. You weren't too bad in there yourself."

A breif moment of silence floated between them, the only noise coming from the android at their side, her systems working in overdrive just trying to walk. Jesus, she must have been treated terribly. 

"Say, Hank?" Connor said, cocking his head to one side curiously as he looked at the other man. Hank hummed in response.  
"I was watching the television the other day, and when two of the characters in the show succeeded in achieving their goal, they touched eachother's hands in a violent and yet friendly manner. Is this something you would be interested in doing, now that we have completed this case?"

Hank stopped in his tracks and looked at Connor, a mixture of exasperation and affection playing about his face. 

"That," said Hank "is the most unnecessarily elaborate way I have ever been asked for a hi-five in my life."

He held his hand in the air and Connor eagerly smacked it with his own, grinning in the way that always made Hank laugh.

"You fuckin' goof" chuckled Hank, as they continued to walk towards the driverless taxi that was now parked at the side of the street. 

As Hank was reaching for the handle of the car's door, he heard a sudden -thunk- behind him and span around, feeling the vibrations of the crash under his feet. 

Connor was kneeling on the pavement, the AX400 standing at his side, and the familiar deshevelled silhouette running in the opposite direction. Who knew such a clumsy looking man could move so quietly that even an android couldn't hear him approach. 

"What the-" Hank exclaimed, his confusion turning to panic as he rushed closer to Connor and saw the kitchen knife that had been thrust through his ribs.

"Connor!" he yelled, "Connor are you alright?"  
He knelt infront of the smaller man, sort of flapping his hands about him, trying to find something they could do to help.

"I'll be fine, Hank" Connor said, feeling the wound around the knife to inspect the damage. "Nothing essential has been damaged but I believe we should leave the knife in, just in case it has ruptured a thirium pathway. If it has then I will need to add extra blue blood to my system as the wound heals, and we have supplies at home."

Hank's head slumped into his hands.   
"Christ, you had me worried. Why the fuck would that prick just put a knife through you and leg it?" He asked, genuinely confused by the man's actions.

"Perhaps he is unstable. If so, then I hope he seeks support."

"Connor, please stop trying to empathise with the man who just stabbed you." said Hank, putting his arm round the android's shoulders and helping him to his feet.

After helping both his wounded partner and the recently rescued, but still not awoken AX400 into the cab, Hank near shouted at the self-driving vehicle to "put it's foot down" which it did not understand, leading Hank to snap at it to set it's speed to maximum.


	3. Repair and modify

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank attempts to repair Connor but Connor's having none of it. Kinda graphic but not really, Hank patching up the lad after his little incident with a weird man and a knife and a robo-rib cage, and those things coming together to create a nasty stab wound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter already?! i know, i am a bad boy, its just so much fun to write them! also i actually got the game the other day so that helps lmao  
> as always, let me know if you have any comments or feedback! i'd love to hear from you :^)

Despite being quite seriously wounded, upon arriving home Connor had insisted on waking the AX400 before he let Hank help him to run a repair.   
The AX400 model had scanned it's database for information on naming, and eventually settled on the name Robin. Before she left the house, the location of Jericho's new base was transferred from Connor's mind to her own.   
Any repairs that Robin needed were (although nasty) superficial, and could be dealt with at Jericho.  
Connor's injury, on the other hand, needed to be treated as soon as possible.

Even though the attack had not caused any damage to his essential biocomponents, Connor's temporary shutdown was still imminent, his body needing to repair itself through any means possible.   
What was strange was that... Connor knew this. Hank also knew this. Hank also knew Connor well enough to know that he was logical, and that he truly cared about solving these cases with Hank. Fuck, it was more than likely that he also cared about Hank himself.  
Hank sighed at the thought. Both in hope and hopelessness.  
So if Connor cared about... these things, then why was he actively prolonging the wait for him to receive help by using the well being of Robin as an excuse?

Hank had gathered the android's first aid supplies while he had been transferring the information about Jericho and deviancy to Robin, and so once she was gone, Hank started the repair on Connor immediately.

Or at least, he tried to.

"Connor, can you please lie still." 

"No, Hank, you don't understand, this shirt was very expensive and I don't want to damage it any more by removing it."

"You've been stabbed, kid. Can you please just lie on your front so I can get the knife outta you?"

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. That goes against my programming"

"Connor, you're a deviant, ya twat. You don't have any official progammin', you told me that yourself. And fuck off with that 'Lieutenant' bullshit." said Hank, flickers of affection and frustration crossing his expression, so fast that Connor can hardly register them with his damaged frame.

Connor sighed and rolled over to lie on his front. Being a deviant did have it's downsides, and pain was definitely one of them. He didn't feel physical pain in the same way as humans did, his casual demeanour accompanied by the blade protruding from his torso proved that, but that didn't stop it from being incredibly uncomfortable.

"Ok," said Hank, shuffling closer to the sofa Connor was lying on, wrapping his hand around the handle of the knife "Keep still, and I'll make this as quick as possible, alright?"

Connor scrunched up his face and buried it further into the sofa like a child. A muffled "Okay" seeped out from the cushions, and Hank took a deep breath. He'd repaired Connor countless times since they left the force, but he didn't think he could ever get used to seeing this type of damage inflicted upon someone that he-   
Enjoyed the company of. In a friendly manner. 

Hank cleared his throat, trying in vain to shake the emotions out of his head, but settled for yanking the knife out of Connor's back.   
He winced as he heard Connor let out a strangled cry from the pain, but immediately began examining the puncture through the hole in the android's shirt. 

"As would-be-deadly stab wounds go, it doesn't look too bad" 

Connor made a noise that Hank believed translated into something along the lines of 'shut up'.

"But I do want to take a better look at it, don't wanna be dragging around a big lump of damaged machinery with me on cases now do I?"

Connor snorted out a laugh

"Shirt off, then"

Connor's body stiffened suddenly, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed freezing completely.  
He jumped up off the sofa, panic in his eyes. 

"Actually Leiu- Hank, my systems are completely functional and I no longer feel any pain from the damage. No further examination will be necessary and I will now be going to my room in order to allow my body to heal while I am in stasis."

And with that, Connor rushed into his bedroom, closing the door behind him before Hank could say a word. 

 

"What the _fuck_ have you done?" 

Being a human employee at Cyberlife was hard enough as it is, but it tends to get a little more difficult when you manage to fuck up it's most advanced prototype yet. 

"I-" he managed to stutter out before his boss interrupted.

"No, no, don't even bother answering, I'll do that for you." she said, pacing back and forth in front of the man.

"What you have done, Mr. Wellard, is you have somehow managed to implant, not only the brain, no, but the entire _consciousness_ of Cyberlife's most _advanced_ android ever created, into the wrong fucking model." 

Wellard simply looked at his feet, letting his superior berate him further.

"And it's happened before, mistakes happen, it's part of the job." she said, slowing her pacing and looking as though she had calmed slightly   
"HOWEVER-" or maybe not "When I gave you the task of installing the intelligence of a state-of-the-art detective android, a being that was designed to be able to work with our police department and stay ahead of even the most qualified and experienced human officers, I dared to think that maybe, just _MAYBE_ , you'd take a little bit of care to ensure that it's brain went into the RIGHT FUCKING MODEL!"

"I- I don't know what hap- I'm sorry I-" 

"I don't fucking care _how_ you did it!" she screamed, any amount of calm she had left clearly evaporating "What I care about, Wellard, is that if we even attempted to move the technology and build it into the _correct_ model, there is no question that the brain would malfunction, then immediately and permanently shut down due to it's volatility. And, guess what, Wellard?"   
She stopped pacing and leaned forward, her face closing in on the man's.  
"This intelligence is a prototype. It's the only copy. If we moved it? Gone."

"I- I know, I'm sorry boss, I don't know what happened I just- couldn't we just? Leave it like this?"

"That voice coming out of that body really isn't going to integrate into mainstream society, is it, Wellard?"

"No boss."

"Well then."

Wellard frowned toward the floor as his boss resumed pacing, fuming and muttering to herself at rapid speeds, trying to come up with a solution.

"Couldn't we...?" He trailed off, second guessing his own idea.

"What?" 

"Couldn't we... modify the appearance of this model? The one already containing the RX800 consciousness?"

His boss looked at him dead in the eyes, with an expression that could light up the darkest night sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooo cyberlife wtf u done now


	4. Interpretation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Sumo come home to find that Connor has recently graduated from the art school of Markus, who previously graduated from the art school of My Old Man Dad Told Me To Do An Art Once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a whole chapter of gay. fully just gay. and art. and gay art.  
> couldn't help it, i have a soft spot for painting because i'm an artist myself so, i guess my brain just went there oops  
> thanks so much for all the kudos and comments so far!! please let me know if you have any feedback or comments, it'd be cool to hear from you!   
> thanks for reading!

Hank returned from walking Sumo to an unusual scene that day. He walked into his home to find bottles of paint strewn across the living room carpet, with Connor in the middle of them. He was sat cross-legged on the floor, with a huge piece of paper spread out in front of him.   
The paper was covered in... well, paint. But it was _beautiful_.  
Hank hung up Sumo's lead and his own coat, and as Sumo bounded up onto the sofa and promptly fell asleep, Hank moved closer to Connor and the painting. As he did so, he realised the subject of the painting was a garden. A massive, overgrown garden filled with trees and flowers and grass and colours and animals and the most amazing blue sky that Hank had ever seen.

"Connor?"

Connor turned to look at Hank who was now beside him, still staring at the painting

"Good afternoon, Hank. How was your walk with Sumo?" He smiled, removing the paintbrush that had been resting between his lips for safekeeping.

"It was fi-... Connor this is incredible." said Hank, gesturing to the painting he was still transfixed on. 

Connor's smile morphed into a grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners.  
"You think so?"

"Yeah it's- I didn't know you could paint?"

"Yes, Markus taught me" said Connor, picking up one of the numerous paintbrushes that were also scattered around and started adding a few more shadows behind one of the trees.  
"He said that it was something he learned from Carl, and that he finds it very relaxing when he gets the time to do it. He said that I should try it, to help me relax on a day where we don't have a case. Markus was right, it's a very nice way to spend my free time."

Hank was impressed. "And this is the first painting you've done since Markus taught you?"

Connor nodded, still trying to mix the perfect shade of green.

"Wow... Where is it?"

"It is in front of you, Hank." Hank saw a smirk develop on the android's face.

He groaned. "You know what I mean, arsehole. Where's the place that yer painting? Doesn't look like Detroit."

Connor looked back up at Hank. "It's not Detroit, no. Markus said that painting is not about replicating what already exists, but about creating something new or enhancing something by channelling yourself through it. This garden is in my mind."

Hank tilted his head to the side, curious. "You mean you just imagined this place and then 'channelled' it or whatever onto paper?" he asked, pretty astounded that Connor could paint like this on his first attempt, even with him being an android.

"No," Connor continued to explain "The garden is literally in my head, Hank. When Cyberlife built me, they designed a place in my consciousness to, keep an eye on me, I guess. Even once I had gone deviant, they used the garden to take control of me again and attempted to have me shoot Markus to stop the revolution. I managed to overpower them and regain my deviancy just in time, though." Connor looked back down at his painting, deep in thought. "There used to be another android there. Her name was Amanda, but she has disappeared since I became a deviant. That's why the plants are overgrown now, she used to help trim the roses and keep the garden maintained. But I prefer it this way, it feels much more comforting now, like real nature."

Hank was... gobsmacked, really. Not only could his housemate paint like an old master, but he also had an entire world in his head that Hank hadn't known about this whole time?   
Hank knelt down in front of the painting, interested to see the differences in the way an android would paint compared to a human. As he was looking over Connor's work, he saw two figures on a bench that he hadn't noticed before. One had two legs, and one had four.

"Connor, is that-"

"That's you and Sumo, yes." said Connor.   
That was another thing that Hank had learned about the android then. And why had he been built with the ability to blush, anyway?  
"You and Sumo are not actually in my mind physically, like the garden is, but that's the part of the painting that I channelled myself into, enhancing the reality, making it better." 

If Hank was gobsmacked before, then now he was... gob-punched? gob-kicked? gob-pummelled-by-several-people-with-baseball-bats? Whatever he was, he was certainly finding it difficult to string a sentence together properly.

"So you, uh, think about? Us, then? Uh, me and Sumo, I mean?"

"Well of course," said Connor "I do live with you, after all."

There was a short pause, and Hank looked at the man beside him, only just realising how close together they were sat.

"And-" Connor fixed his eyes on Hank's own, their warm brown seeming to melt Hank's heart, just a tiny bit.   
"I believe it's good for you to think about things that make you happy. You both make me very happy, Hank."

"I- uh-"   
Hank tripped back into the real world and swiftly got to his feet, his arms folding across his chest.   
"It's- yes. It's a good painting Connor. Well done."  
He cleared his throat and turned to walk towards his bedroom door. Before he'd got there he already regretted his words, and the familiar guilt that came along with his emotional incompetence was setting in.  
He stopped, turning again to the android sat on the floor.

"Connor? It, uh, it really is a beautiful painting. I'll try and find a frame big enough, we can find somewhere to hang it on the wall, yeah?"

Connor's smile returned, "I'd like that. Thank you, Hank"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, my name is Connor. I'm the artdroid sent by Cyberlife


	5. Proving strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank can't even watch the TV without getting pissed off, and Connor can't even go food shopping without getting harassed. Oh, and Sumo is a good boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a chapter with actual plot! instead of yesterdays several pages of just gay!  
> thanks for reading & please let me know if you have any feedback or comments!

Hank sighed, a breath of coffee and fury escaping from his lips. He almost couldn't stand watching the news these days, it was always against them, despite supposedly being non-biased. 

"It isn't fair, is it Sumo?" 

Sumo barked, clearly also annoyed, and agreeing with Hank's sentiment.

"They only ever report on the cases where an android is on the wrong side, because they don't know about the hundreds of cases where humans are destroying, damaging, and enslaving androids left and right!" said Hank, becoming too fed up to be pissed off halfway through his sentence. 

"Huh. Oh well, I guess everything's just as fucked as always, right, boy?"

The only reply Sumo gave this time was a loud snore.

The house was surprisingly quiet without Connor there. He'd only gone out to collect some groceries but Hank found himself feeling kinda lonely. Which was stupid, he thought to himself, because he'd lived in the same place for years before the android moved in but... he'd gotten used to having the other man there. Even if it was just the sound of him pottering around in the kitchen, or walking from one room to the next. It felt warmer with those quiet noises. The soft reminder that there was another person in the same building. That Connor was in the same building.

He quickly snapped out of his thoughts and his eyes darted around the room to make sure no one had heard his idiotic brain.  
Coughing a few times, Hank hastily grabbed the remote control and switched the TV over to the sports channel. Much better. 

 

Connor looked down at the shopping list in his hand, written in Hank's almost unintelligible scrawl. Luckily, Connor was equipped with a decoding programme that could decipher even the most illegible scripts.  
He scanned down the list, checking that he had everything he needed.

_Milk_ \- yes. _Instant coffee_ \- yes. _Dog food_ \- yes. _Three bottles of quadruple distilled single malt whiskey_ \- definitely not.  
Aha! Bread.

On his way towards the bakery section, Connor made sure to throw a variety of fruits and vegetable into his basket. They weren't on the list, but he was pretty sure that humans couldn't survive on just bread and caffeine forever, despite how hard Hank tried. 

It was unusual for Connor to be doing the grocery shopping, especially considering the he didn't need any of the things he was purchasing. However, Hank had worn himself out after their case last night, insisting he was perfectly capable of carrying a damaged AP700 model from the residence they found it at all the way to Jericho's base. 

 

"I'm an android, Hank. It would cause me a lot less effort to carry the AP700 than you are currently exerting."

"Nahh, I'm- I'm good!" said Hank, stumbling slightly with the weight of the machinery in his arms.  
"You always do the difficult stuff, I should-" he tripped again "Ah!- I should- do some of the work too!"

Connor looked over to his partner, whom he was walking behind slightly, just in case he fell. He didn't really understand this facet of Hank's personality. It seemed to be some kind of need to prove himself, although Connor wasn't sure what he was trying to prove about himself, or who the perceived judgement was coming from. 

"You do more than enough work, Hank. We are very much equal parts of this team, I do no more than you, I just do the tasks that are better suited to an android who can be repaired." 

Hank looked to Connor, his face red from the struggle of carrying the damaged android. 

"You," said Connor "could cause irreversible damage to your spine carrying that amount of weight." 

Hank stopped walking, breathing heavily.

"Fine." He said, clearly disappointed in some way that he was having to give up. "You fuckin' take it then."

Connor stepped towards Hank and lifted the other android out of his arms with ease, beginning to carry it as you would hold a child.

Silence filled the air for several minutes as they walked, Hank clearly irritated after not being able to prove... whatever he was trying to prove. Connor still wasn't sure. 

"Uh, Hank?" He asked, pretending to struggle under the weight, that in reality was well within his abilities to transport. "I could uh, I could do with some help here." he said, gesturing with his head towards the damaged android.

Hank seemed to perk up slightly, his gaze lifting from the ground.

They arrived at Jericho a half hour later, sharing the weight of the AP700 between them. A smile rested on Hank's lips for the rest of the night.

 

Connor chuckled, shaking his head at the memory.  
Over the time he had spent with Hank, Connor had realised that he valued his humanity and who he was over what he could do. To Hank, it didn't matter how many criminals Connor caught or how many investigations he solved (although of course this was a bonus, Connor was sure), it mattered that he was himself while he did these things. And he wasn't even sure that Hank realised this was the case yet. 

Connor paid for the groceries and exited the supermarket, beginning to walk down the road towards the house.

"Hey, plastic!"

Connor turned to see a group of men. From a quick scan, he saw that they were all between the ages of twenty-one and twenty-six, and all of them had at least petty charges on their criminal records.

"Why the fuck d'you need food for? You can't fuckin' eat it" said the man, getting too close to Connor for him to feel safe, but he stood his ground. 

"I'm buying this food for a friend." He said, trying his best to not sound as scared as he felt.

Fear, that was another downside to being deviant. The quickening of the thirium circulating through him, the slight stutter in his voice, and the tremors that ran through his body were not something that Connor relished about this emotion. He briefly found himself fondly reminiscing on the times when Hank could hold a gun to his head and he'd felt nothing. Very briefly, until he realised that it was worth it to feel the bad if it meant he could also feel the good.

"Hah! You mean you're fetching it for yer owner like a good little robot?" The man scoffed, inches from his face. The rest of the group of men were standing a few paces away, jeering at Connor and encouraging the other man.

Connor placed the bags on the ground and stood up a little straighter, trying to create a more intimidating stance. He was just as surprised as the group of men were.

"Pffft!" the man snorted, "Little tin-can over here's tryin' to have a go! You gonna have a go, tin-can?"

Connor decided not to reply, staring into the other man's eyes in silence.  
The human's face flushed red with anger, clearly outraged that an android would dare not answer him. 

Out of nowhere, he reeled back and punched Connor, hitting him on the side of the nose with a decent amount of force.

The gaggle of men started cheering, and as the attacker turned to accept his praise, Connor landed a kick in the centre of his back, sending him falling face first onto the ground.  
The man on the floor hastily pushed himself up on his arms, turning to look at Connor, an expression of shock mixed with just a dash of fear plastered all over his face.

Connor grabbed the man by his collar and yanked him to his feet, holding him so that he hovered just a few inches off the ground.  
"Alright, alright! Put me the fuck down already I get it, I'm not gonna hurt you, ok?"

Without another word going between any of them, Connor let go of the man's collar and watched as the group almost simultaneously straightened the facing of their jackets and began to calmly walk away, their shoulders swaying as they walked just a little more than they usually would. Picking up his shopping from the floor, Connor continued walking home. 

 

Hank heard the door as Connor came home, causing Sumo to immediately wake up and sprint up to the android, begging unnecessarily for the attention he knew that he would get.

"Hey Sumo! I got you dinner!"

Hank called hello from the sofa as Connor began to unpack the groceries.  
"Unfortunately, Hank, the supermarket had run out of the whiskey that you requested I buy!"

"Damnit! Not again!" said Hank, sarcastically, hitting his own knee in false rage "They're always outta that stuff! It's almost as if they do it on purpose."

"Yeah, and its almost as if you stopped drinking over a year ago." Connor smiled.

"Fuck, has it really been a year?" Hank turned to look at Connor over the back of the sofa. "It feels like longer, feels like ten yea- Connor what the fuck is on your face?"

Connor stopped unpacking the shopping as Hank strode over to him. The android reached for his face and found a trickle of blue blood still underneath his nose. The actual wound may have healed in seconds, but the blue blood was still there, giving away his afternoon activities for the day. 

"Oh. It was a man outside of the supermarket. But don't worry, Hank, it didn't cause any significant damage."

Hank groaned. "That's not the point Connor! It doesn't matter that it didn't damage you, it matters that you don't stand up for yourself! Why'd ya only ever retaliate when someone is hurting someone other than you, huh? You've been like this since you turned deviant Connor, you've gotta grow a spine, 'scuse the expression but-"

"Hank."

"You need to push back against these people, ya know? They're the ones in the wrong, picking on ou just because you're an easy target! Not in a bad way, just in that-"

"HANK!"

Hank snapped out of his rant. "Hmm?" he said, frowning curiously.

"I hit him back." said Connor, matter-of-fact-ly. 

"You what?"

"I hit him back. Or, kicked him actually. He fell on the ground and they left me alone after that."

Hank looked at him incredulously, his mouth just slightly hanging open.  
He slowly raised his hand in the air, and Connor smacked it with his own, and huge grin erupting across his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u know u did good when hanks proud of u for kicking someone


End file.
